Archive for the Short Faerie's Tails Category

Trump is a modern Scrooge (from Dicken’s story ‘Christmas Carol’); however he seems not to have learned the lessons that Scrooge learned by the end of the story. Some people do not learn to be more generous and loving as they age, even when confronted by ‘spirits’. Pain and suffering are not only natural parts of life, but very mysterious the more we study them with science and psychology.

Trump never learned by the end of the 1980s that greed and obsession with physical appearance and material wealth was unethical and immoral; socially and religiously. Trump has continued to abuse women, insult everyone, and make huge profits at the expense of millions of victims of a corrupt Capitalist system. Now made president by the electoral college, this wanna-be-dictator is increasing racist violence around the World, dismantling all the humane departments of government (Education, NPS, EPA, lower-class and middle-class well-fare), and increasing pollution and corruption within our country by a series of ‘executive orders’ and ignorant tweets and propaganda that promotes well-fare for the rich and oppression for the masses. The Tax bill, his actions against Natives, and his increase of War spending are clear enough; besides all his hate talk. There are reasons his approval ratings are lower than all other presidents in recorded history.

Shortly after the death of Doctor Dippie, these strange scribblings were translated from his entrails, upon execution of his Will. This collection of short stories and tales is dedicated to his dear friends and brothers from RWU: Deathstalker, Cordite, and the Smelly, Furry Hippy, with whom he spent many hours “Tossing the Panda”. Also Sir Jeffy, Gleason, and Gramps Speeg.

Once upon a time, there was a blue van with pink polka-dots, and a brightly colored rose painted on each door. It had a Grateful Dead bumper sticker partially faded by the sun. Although it is not known first hand by the author, I’m sure that the interior upholstery reeked of marijuana. Often I see it stream by in a roaring blur of happy color, and yesterday it ran over my dog. All in all, … it is quite a bohemian contraption.

I remember the dream quite vividly. A screaming, shrill, high-pitched voice was ever present. Blood poured down my temples as I bashed my head against a wall to stop the pain. The pain of the child. The pain of the child was intense. The child was my child… the child was a baby… the baby was my baby!!! The baby was my baby!!! And the cat!!! The cat was threshing my poor infant child, and there was nothing I could do!

… Then suddenly, I awoke. My wife lay beside me, and all seemed normal. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I slid out of bed. As I approached the baby’s chamber, my heart beat like a hammer on an anvil. Good-God, the suspense. I flipped on the light switch and rushed over to the baby’s cradle. To my ultimate horror I found that the baby was gone! In place of my beloved baby, among the infantile swaddling buntings, lay the cat!!!

All sanity drained from me, I scolded the feline. The cat did not answer. Frantically I searched the room. My eyes searched to and fro. Then, all at once, my heart and eyes settled. No more screams, no more pain. I could once again return to my peaceful slumber; because there, in the corner of the room curled up in the cat’s box, was my child; dreaming the dreams of an angel.